Discovering Himself
by Great Ace
Summary: In which Harry realises and begins to accept his sexuality. COMPLETE!


The same story, I've just cleaned it up a little Enjoy!

~()~

Harry lay awake long after he heard the last of his roommates succumb to the peacefulness of sleep; their soft snores a painful reminder of how simple their lives must be.

 _They_ weren't kept awake night after night worried about Voldemort, worried about returning to his so-called family, worried about Malfoy disappearing all the time, and worried about _what was wrong with them._

Harry had known since first year that he was different- and not just because he was famous for something he could barely remember.

He had always felt left out, confused whenever his roommates talked about girls. For years they had sat in the dorm rooms discussing who they would like to date or "do." They would ask him the same questions. They'd never believed him when he, truthfully, said that there was no one he was interested in.

At first when they were 11 and 12, it was more subtle- they discussed it less, and everyone was denying that they "liked" girls, so Harry seemed as though he fit in, despite how confused he felt by those questions. What were those feelings everyone was talking about? But he pushed it to the back of his mind. They were young, after all, they would come later.

Besides, he had more important things to worry about than girls- maybe he was just more mature?

By the time they were 13 though, the other boys became bolder, more confident. They started to talk about "doing it" and Harry remained confused. Why would you want to do something like that?

When he told the boys that there was no one he was interested in, the questions became more intrusive.

"Of course you like someone"

"You don't need to hide it from us"

"Are you gay? Is that why you won't tell us who you like?" Phrases like these became more and more frequent in his life, leaving him confused and worried that there was something wrong with him.

But outside the dorms, everything seemed more normal. Hermione never talked about things like these, after all, and the boys seemed to lose all confidence and never acted on the things they talked about wanting to do.

Maybe Harry was normal, and the boys were just making things up?

By 4th year, things changed again. Suddenly, people were "dating." They were walking around the school holding hands, kissing, whispering sweet nothings to each other and Harry never understood why they were doing these things.

What possessed his classmates to want to put their tongues in other people's mouths? Why did they enjoy saying such strange things to each other? Was it all a giant hoax? They were told they needed to do these things, and so they followed the commands like sheep?

But that didn't seem to be right. Whenever the guys in the dorms talked about their experiences, they seemed to genuinely like what they were doing.

There had to be something wrong with him.

The kicker for Harry was when Hermione seemed to get in on the secret. Suddenly she was all giggly and fawning over Viktor Krum. Even sensible, smart Hermione seemed to be falling prey to the strange affliction that seemed to be possessing the entire school barring him.

There was clearly something wrong with him. Why wasn't he feeling the butterflies that everyone else talked about? Why did he feel no desire to snog, or have sex like all the other guys said they felt? No desire to date a girl?

Why?

What was wrong with him?

It was around this time that Dean and Seamus began dating more openly, and Harry wondered if that was the answer. Was he just gay? Is that why he wasn't interested in girls?

But that didn't seem to make sense either. He started looking at the other guys, wondering if perhaps he was attracted to them… but no. He felt nothing for them, either.

Something must be seriously wrong- _everyone_ was attracted to someone, it seemed, except for him.

Was he broken?

Perhaps it was something that you had to try first to understand…

Maybe if he just tried dating a girl, everything would make sense to him and he would understand what it was that everyone was talking about. Harry resolved to try dating a girl… next year, he decided. No need to rush it.

6th year had rolled around and Harry was feeling just as broken and confused as the year before, but also determined to learn what it was that everyone else was clearly so good at understanding.

And so, feeling ill at ease he asked Ginny Weasley on a date.

He liked her- she was nice, funny, and easy to talk to. Was this what everyone was talking about? But something was missing. How was this any different to having lunch with Hermione? Or Katie Bell? There was no spark, no butterflies, no sweaty palms or anything that he was told to expect. There was no desire to be physically closer. Was it all a lie?

Still, Ginny seemed to be enjoying herself, although- what was that look she was giving him? It was, frankly, a little terrifying. It was like she wanted to attack him!

After lunch, she pulled him aside into a quiet place, and Harry's heart began to pump uncomfortably fast. Was this it? Was this the moment when he learnt what it was that everyone got so excited about? Was this the moment that would make him normal?

Suddenly, he frowned and realised that her lips were pressed against his. She looked so strange with her eyes closed and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. And what was that slimy thing pressing against his lips?!

Ginny moved away from him and opened her eyes.

"You know you're supposed to open your mouth when you kiss someone."

"I know," said Harry suddenly feeling very uncomfortable- why would he want to do that?! "Give me some time, I'm still learning how to do all of this stuff"

"Yeah you'll probably get it next time," she had said, "so you up for doing this again?"

"Yeah," Said Harry, ignoring the fact that every fibre of his being was screaming 'NO!' so loudly that it was physically painful and he felt ready to vomit; "Yeah, it was great."

They had gone on a few more dates, and Harry had kissed her a few more times. He'd learnt how to open his mouth, although he felt violated when her tongue entered his mouth- it was so slimy! And gross! But he learnt to put up with it. Maybe it just took time?

He tried closing his eyes and just feeling the sensations that he was supposed to feel – but it just felt all wrong to him. It was not enjoyable. He did not want this.

He must be broken, he decided.

Harry didn't want to give up, but he really wasn't enjoying the kissing or the holding hands, or the sitting close to each other or the-

He began to pretend to be sick, so Ginny wouldn't want to do all those things to him. Maybe he would enjoy dating her if he didn't have to do all the physical stuff?

But even with that, he still felt nothing. She was just a friend, and he couldn't imagine wanting anything more than that with her… hell, he couldn't imagine wanting anything with anyone!

Clearly it wasn't something that could be learned.

There was something very wrong with him, he decided. But finally, he couldn't handle "dating" Ginny any longer. He felt uncomfortable with the whole idea, and felt physically sick whenever he had to refer to Ginny as his girlfriend… something he only ever did when she was around, or when he needed a good excuse to turn other girls down.

In his head, although he tried his hardest to change the fact, he could never stop referring to her as his friend. Not girlfriend.

Disheartened, he felt as though he had to end their "relationship," for want of a better word. It wasn't fair on her that he was stopping her from doing what she so clearly wanted to, and if she was with another, more normal guy then she would be able to.

Breaking up was painful as well because she kept asking him what she'd done wrong.

"Nothing," he'd told her, although she didn't believe him. But how could he tell her that the real reason they'd broken up was because he was exactly that- broken?

Harry began to research to the best of his ability what was wrong with him. Everything he found seemed to support the fact that there was something wrong with him. Therapies were offered to fix the problem. The muggle world offered hormone boosters, sex therapy, counselling and many more "solutions" – but none of those felt right to him.

Besides, he could barely admit to himself that there was something wrong with him, that he was broken. Why would he want to confide in dozens of strangers?

The wizarding world offered spells and corrective sex- but he really wasn't a fan of those ideas either.

He had almost resigned himself to the fact that he was, and would remain, broken and alone for the rest of his life when he overheard a conversation between a 5th year Ravenclaw girl and her friend.

He didn't remember exactly who they were, or the specifics of the conversation that they were having, but there was two words from it that burned themselves into his mind and refused to leave.

"What is an aromantic asexual person?" He wondered, and although he had never heard the terms before, they felt like an old friend… they sounded so _right_ _ **.**_

He finally found references to the terms, and they just made _so much sense_ to him.

He learnt that an asexual person was someone who didn't feel sexual attraction, and although that in definition fit him perfectly, it sounded as though a lot of asexual people still wanted relationships – and he had never felt any form of attraction.

He learnt that an aromantic person didn't feel romantic attraction, although some still felt sexual attraction.

But what interested him was what happened if you combined the two, and he discovered that there was people just like that… just like him, he realised.

HE WASN'T BROKEN!

But it was still hard.

What would people think of him if they found out? Surely they would think there was something very wrong with him.

Would they even know what it meant? After all, he had never heard of aro ace as he found out it was called… and that was what he was. How would other people find out about it?

Harry resolved to keep it to himself- he could take comfort in knowing that he wasn't alone, and no one else ever needed to know.

But the questions kept coming…

"Who do you like?"

"Do you have a secret girlfriend? When can we meet her?"

"You know, you've only ever dated one girl- are you sure you're not secretly gay?"

"Have you got a boyfriend? When can I meet him?"

And every time he heard these, he wanted to scream in frustration. Now that he knew the truth he felt both the burning desire to scream it to the world so that they would just STOP. ASKING. THOSE. QUESTIONS! …and at the same time, an intense fear that someone, anyone would find out the truth and think the worst of him. After all, it seemed as though the world believed attraction to be a fundamental aspect of human existence… and he went against that belief.

Finally, he decided to tell one person, just one… a relative stranger so if they took it the wrong way he would never have to speak to them again…

"But how do you know this? Have you tried dating a guy? Have you tried having sex? No? Then how could you possibly know?"

"Don't worry, it's just a phase"

"I'm sure you just haven't found the right girl yet; you'll change your mind when you do!"

The response from them was even more painful to him than the questions other people asked him, because they just refused to try to understand what he was telling them, and he felt more isolated than ever.

Perhaps there actually was something wrong with him?

Harry could stand it no longer, and pulled Hermione aside to talk to her about 'IT,' as he had been referring to his newly discovered sexuality.

Feeling more nervous than he ever had before, and kicking himself for it- you've faced down Voldemort! You can talk to Hermione!- he told her what he was, and how he felt about it.

Incredibly, she was okay about it. She told him that she was there for him, and that she believed him and hoped that one day he could learn to accept himself for who he was.

Harry was so relieved, so elated that someone was trying to understand- that someone believed him! He began to pour all of his worries out to her, and once he started there was no stopping.

How would other people react once they found out?

Was he going to live alone for the rest of his life? After all, he couldn't offer someone romantic or sexual reasons to stay around and that's what everyone wanted- why would they stay with him?

He was glad, for the first time in his life for his fame and his parent's money- at least financially he could afford to live alone, if not emotionally.

Hermione sat and listened, and let him pour his heart out to her and for the first time in his life, Harry felt that maybe- just maybe, everything might be okay.

Maybe there was nothing wrong with him.

Maybe he wasn't broken.

~(finite)~

Hola mi amigos! Please drop me a line if you liked this, or if it helped you! Reviews are greatly appreciated, but private messages are also fantastic if you prefer to keep your response private.

I'd love to hear your thoughts!

3 Ace of Spades 3


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